In 1991, the Soviet Union broke into pieces from which 15 new sovereign countries were born. Yet Transnistria, the Russian-speaking region in the easternmost part of Moldova, was not among them. The self-proclaimed "presidential republic" has its government, army, flag, emblem, anthem and even passports, which are valid in only three countries in the world.

Anton Polyakov was born in the Transnistrian capital of Tiraspol in 1990, the year the region declared independence from Moldova. He has been capturing the daily life of Transnistrians since 2012. "For many, Transnistria is a new country without a past, but some see it as a continuation of the Soviet Union," says the photographer. Portrayed here is famous Soviet footballer Alexander Veryovkin.

When Polyakov was 2, tensions between the country and the region led to a war, which was quickly put down by Russia's intervention. "People are still sentimental about the Soviet times here," says Polyakov. May 9, the "Victory Day" of the Great Patriotic War between the Soviet Union and Nazi Germany, is remembered across the region with battle reenactments.

The Transnistrian government wants to be ready to fight on real front lines, too. Basic military training is part of high school curricula, military parades take place every year and body-building contests are hugely popular. According to the Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe, the region owns 20,000 to 40,000 tonnes of Soviet-era weaponry.

The OSCE report from 2015 also states that Russian military personnel is still present in Transnistria, despite the 1999 Istanbul Summit deal to withdraw. "People here see Russia as the main guarantor of security in the region and want Russia's recognition," says Polyakov. Most Transnistrians voted for independence and potential future integration into Russia in a referendum held in 2006.

With a population of roughly 475,000 and an area of 4,163 square kilometers, Transnistria is one of the smallest countries in Europe, yet its per capita GDP is comparable to that of Nigeria. The economy is driven by heavy industry, electricity production and textile manufacturing, but the trade restrictions related to the Ukrainian conflict are bringing the region close to economic collapse.

While there are jobs in the cities – albeit poorly paid, with an average salary of 180 euros ($200) – living in the Transnistrian countryside is a different story. "We may think it is great to live in the picturesque nature of the region, but there are no opportunities nor infrastructure. With nothing to do, young people leave and go to the cities or Russia as soon as they can," says Polyakov.

The future of Transnistria is dependent on Russia, which views the region as strategically important. And it intends to stick with "the format of the existing peacekeeping mission in Transnistria," which essentially means keeping Russian soldiers there. "This is why Transnistria is still not an independent political player. This makes my home a hostage to the political situation," says Polyakov.

Tanya moved to Italy five years ago where she works as a caregiver for the elderly and earns about 850 euros ($960) a month. But her three daughters — Karolina, Sabrina and Olga — were left behind in Moldova. They were 8, 9 and 12 years old, respectively, when she left.

The girls initially lived alone at first, even though the oldest was only 12 years old. After a time, they began living with various people, to whom their mother regularly sent money.

Now the eldest daughter, Olga, is finishing high school in Chisinau, while Sabrina and Karolina have joined their mother in Italy.

For the past seven years, Katalina's parents have barely been home. Her parents found jobs in Moscow and later moved to Italy after receiving work visas. Katalina's grandmother lived in a different village, but she eventually moved in with Katalina and her brother, Victor, to look after them.

Ottilia was barely a year old when her parents left Moldova. Her mother and father paid 4,000 euros each to get into Italy without proper documents. The girl didn't see them for five years and lived with her grandmother, who she called "mom." A year ago, Ottilia's parents managed to get a residence permit in Italy and brought their daughter to live with them.

Lilia moved to the West with her husband eight years ago. The couple had to work hard to repay the debt they took on to pay for the illegal border-crossing. Their daughters Nadia and Alina were 9 and 6 at the time.

Lilia sent parcels to her children three times a month. The family is reunited now, but it has come at a high price — the "visas" for the children cost 1,500 euros each.

German photographer Andrea Diefenbach tells the story of Moldovan children in her book "Country without parents," published in German by Kehrer-Verlag.